Blood Lines Part 29

'Is there?' I asked.

'No there is a psychotic knife-man out and about the closes of Edinburgh but not a serial killer. The person who murdered Tanya was the same person who attacked Alex Cattanach, but and this is something that your average Plod won't accept the murderer of Donna Diamond was a copycat. DI Bancho, however, has accepted my findings.'

'What is this? Has Duncan Bancho been made a saint and no one's told me? How come everyone's singing the praises of a bent copper all of a sudden? Have you not heard what Moses has to say about him?'

'You let your personal likes and dislikes cloud the issue sometimes, Brodie.'

'No way that guy is on the take. I've seen it myself, I've seen what he does.'

'Brodie, think about it what have you seen? A young man who you have irritated beyond the bounds of sanity of that I have no doubt as he's not the first to be put in that position is somewhat annoyed by you. But if he's so crooked, how come you have no proof?'

'I have proof.'

As I said it I could feel my heels digging in. I knew I was right.

'It's not seemly to argue over the bodies of the deceased. It's not seemly.' Patch thought differently about the dead to anyone else. In some ways they were just empty containers to him, and yet in a more subtle way they were like old friends albeit naked, hacked-up, dead friends who he shared most of his working days with. To me, they just looked like a reason to empty my stomach.

'The Slasher is stepping up the tempo look at the ferocity of the stab wounds. This time they were determined the victim would not survive. Twenty-five wounds to the abdomen and legs. She was knifed in the abdomen first and must have cowered down on the floor. There are wounds on her head and her shoulders from where she must have curled up trying to protect herself. The legs were injured when she pulled them up to try to protect them all of the marks are predominantly around the outer thigh of the left leg and further down that side. She had curled up in a foetal ball ...' Patch's voice got quieter as he said this; both of us saw the irony of a traditionally safe position being Tanya's final one. 'The shower room looked like a slaughter house,' he finished.

'The killer must have been covered in blood someone would have seen them leave,' I said.

'I have a theory on that.' Patch always had a theory on everything. He leaned over Tanya Hayder. I didn't go and meet him halfway, rather I leaned back towards the wall.

'I believe the killer stripped naked and got into the shower with Tanya I think it was someone she knew. The major injuries occurred before she started to defend herself.'

'How do you know that?' I asked.

'It's a hunch nothing I can point to specifically yet.'

'The cuts on the eyes that's not something that Alex Cattanach has. The markings on Alex's cheeks look like Celtic spirals, and these ...' I wavered, not really knowing what I was looking at.

'They're runic symbols in the past it wasn't unusual to see this sort of thing. This almost looks like primitive, ritual cuttings, but in this case the marks are not designed to promote good health or courage. The murderer continued brutalising Tanya after she was dead, the stabbing continued, and then these slits on the eyes were made post mortem.'

'This and the attack on Alex Cattanach? They're not about pagan enchantment, Patch. They're barbarism.'

'Well, I think Duncan Bancho wants to speak to you about that. He knows that you went to see Tanya and that you had an argument; one of the other residents complained to the warden.'

'I intend to avoid Saint Duncan until I've got this figured out,' I replied.

'Are you any closer to doing so?'

I shook my head. I couldn't bear to hear myself speak the truth.

'Here's a copy of the letter Tanya Hayder wrote to you.'

Patch pa.s.sed me the doc.u.ment. I wasn't surprised. Prisoners write letters. They have it down to an art form. Some of my clients earn by making scrolls for other inmates to send to their loved ones. But this was no 'scroll'. The only decoration it had on it was Tanya's tears.

Hiya Brodie, I'm sory we fought. I should of told you what u want to know. specialy with u being in such bother and al that.

I know about the vid cos I was in it.

Me and wee Moira Campbell from Pilrig Street. I dont think u met her, nice la.s.sie, her da was a minster and then she got hooked on smack from some dodgy boyfriend. Anyway, she's ded now so u wont get any info from her. Sometimes I think I see her hanging about the foot of The Walk, seeing if she can pick up a punter, but its just some other poor la.s.sie. I think we must all look the same, even to me.

Moira comited suicide cos of the video. She wasnt a lesbian and I think wud was terified that her da wud see it and that would end him. She had her principles, altho I used to tel her not to let it bother her. I suppose her old man wouldn't have been too happy at the sight of her seling herself. Don't get me started on ministers, though. Two-faced b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, the lot of them.

The vid was a rite bad p.o.r.no movie. It was filmed in some solicitors office. I was going to blackmale them. If I can only get myself some money toguther then I can go straight. I KNOW I CAN.

I cant name names it's too dodgy. But Ive got a copy of the tape find it and youll know rite away whose involved.

I gave it to Moira's da and I made him swear to me that he would never look. He's the minster of St Jude's Episcopal church in Leith.

See you soon, hunnnee. Did I say that I was sory?

Tanya x.x.x I looked at Patch, who had been reading over my shoulder, and then I ran like the wind.

Chapter Forty.

St Jude's Church in Leith has its own graveyard.

As I walked through the large wrought-iron gates, Joe was already there unsurprisingly, given that I had phoned him and asked him to collect Tanya Hayder's package as I left the morgue. I may also have had a few words to say about the importance of getting it before Duncan Bancho did. The Rag Doll is less than five minutes from the church and yet again I knew Joe was my best chance of success. Patch would have enough questions to answer without making this a waste of time, so I couldn't allow my personal feelings for Joe to mess this up. Quite apart from the small matter of my liberty, there was a serial killer at large for, as far as I was concerned, Alex Cattanach was dead. Maybe worse than.

Nothing with Joe was ever simple, though. He was standing in the graveyard under a leafy tree. The birds were singing and beside him stood what can only be described as a broken man. The broken man was wearing a dog collar. Joe had clearly found the Reverend Campbell, Moira's father.

I saw Joe placed his arm around Campbell and pulled him close, patting his back like a child as they stood in front of her simple gravestone, and, as I got closer, I could hear what he was saying to the man too.

'You weren't a bad father you were an unlucky one. The streets of Leith are running with drugs Moira was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. What could you have done?'

'I've asked myself that every hour on the hour since I heard the news, Joe. I've lost my faith and I just don't have the courage to resign from the only life I know. Moira grew up here playing in the trees. This is her final resting place at least I know where she is at nights now. I come out and speak to her; sometimes, I think she even answers me.'

'You're doing good work here, Mike,' Joe comforted him. 'I know some of the kids you've rescued. You couldn't save Moira but you've managed to do exactly that with many others.'

'I couldn't do it without your help, Joe.'

I wasn't intending to eavesdrop I was simply waiting for an opportune time to introduce myself but now that Campbell had dropped that bombsh.e.l.l into the conversation, I hid behind the tree and planned to listen more intently. Unfortunately, Joe waved his hand at the Reverend and silenced him on the subject.

I walked out of the shadows and Joe introduced us to each other.

'We'd better get going, Mike,' he said as soon as the formalities were out of the way. 'If anyone shows up, I don't want it to be awkward for you. Just tell them that you gave it to us and let me worry about them.'

Reverend Campbell handed a white padded envelope over to Joe, who placed it under his arm. I noticed that it was unopened; the Reverend had kept his word to Tanya. Lucky for him, I thought, as we went out the back gate to the graveyard. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Duncan Bancho and Peggy Malone walking up the path towards the minister. Unseen, Joe and I ran as if the devil himself were after us. We knew that the Rag Doll was too obvious; there was only one person to go to.

Moses.

Hillside Crescent is a much underrated part of Edinburgh. Formerly, it was cla.s.sed to be at the top of Leith Walk or Easter Road. In reality the architecture is much more akin to Carlton Crescent across the road. The houses there cost well over a million and have done for much longer than the current property boom. Moses bought his for a song when he was sixteen. I never did know where the finance came from, but now I suspect my grandad had a hand in it somewhere.

The flat or lair of the Dark Angels was unique. It resembled a film set. In a large drawing room to the front of the flat, the walls were lined with bunk-beds like the catacombs in Rome. The place was spotless. Moses was a neat freak and I'm sure that many teenage runaways who sought refuge with the Dark Angels found it easier to live on the streets than with Moses' commandments.

The original Georgian door had been painted glossy black, and had a s.h.i.+ny bra.s.s door-knocker. For once I didn't feel ashamed of my housewifery skills in comparison; whatever else Bobby, or Agnes, was, he was a d.a.m.ned good cleaner. After our meeting yesterday, Moses had brought him back to the lair so that we could decide what to do with him. Whoever the much-insulted Mr Big actually was, we knew that he was capable of a level of violence that few could match. I couldn't even gut a dead fish, so that was me out of the picture. But I like to think smart. The attack on Alex Cattanach had given me an idea. I had asked Moses to get some sodium pentathol, which I intended to use in conjunction with hypnosis. I figured that Bobby would tell me all I needed to know without him suffering so much as a bleeding nose, as long as Kailash came good on her claim to be adept at putting people under. That was my hope anyway. However, that had to be put on the backburner for the time being, so that I could watch Tanya's final present for me.

The Alchemist opened the door to me and Joe.

'My trial's up on Friday,' he said without pleasantries. 'I hope you've not been too busy trying to save your own a.r.s.e to look after mine. The gear you asked Moses to get is in the fridge. Tell me if you're taking it today. Moses makes me keep tabs on all the drugs I have on account of the Angels sometimes the temptation is too much.'

We followed him into the large hallway. The black and white tiles were newly polished; not only did they s.h.i.+ne but they were extremely slippery. I followed Joe to the shoe cupboard; we knew by now that Moses would expect us to take off our shoes. There were some plastic slipperettes available for guests but I refused to use them, even though Moses said the acid from my feet would stink his rugs. It was a point of principle. The slipperettes didn't fit Joe's feet, but I doubt that Moses would have the audacity to suggest he wore them, even if they did.

Bobby Burns sat in the corner and waved a h.e.l.lo as we walked in. That seemed very friendly, given our last meeting.

'Valium,' explained Kailash, who sat in the best seat in the house, a red velvet chaise longue.

'He was being a right pain in the a.r.s.e, shouting about kidnapping and everything. I've got enough problems with the neighbours without him adding to them,' said Moses.

I nodded as if his behaviour was the most natural thing in the world. Moses abhorred chaos and violence in his home. Mozart played softly in the background, as he had read somewhere that listening to the composer increased your intelligence. 'Easier than reading books,' he said when I questioned him about his choice of music. Although he was trying and succeeding to educate himself, it was because he had been so badly let down by the state system that he was lacking in the first place. He hated having any obvious c.h.i.n.k in his armour. My grandad was teaching him philosophy and he had taken to Nietzsche in particular. 'That which does not kill us makes us stronger' was written in gold italic script in his bedroom, the first thing he saw every morning when he awoke.

'I had a h.e.l.luva job getting my hands on a video, Brodie, everyone has DVD players now.'

The battered VCR looked out of place underneath the sixty-inch high-definition LCD screen that Moses had imported from the States. Three seats were arranged around it, as if for film magnates at a private screening.

'What about him?' I asked, nodding towards Bobby.

'He'll have to stay he's freaking out Angelina and she won't have him anywhere near her,' Moses answered.

Angelina ruled the roost. A plump girl of eighteen, she mothered them all. She had won her place by virtue of her cooking skills; we often swapped recipes and she had taught me techniques such as how to make a perfect souffle. Moses had, at her request, sent her on a cookery course. I wondered what Nick Nairn and his middle-cla.s.s cooks had made of her if they had seen past the lip ring, black lipstick and spider tattoo, I'm sure that she would have bowled them over as much as she did us. I hoped Moses had the sense to shack up with her one day; although, somehow, I suspected it wouldn't happen as the light of unrequited love burned in Angelina's eyes every time she looked at him. All she had to do was drop three stones and he'd be eating out of her hand.

Angelina walked in carrying a large tray laden with freshly baked goods. Her shortbread was to die for. My hand shot out to grab some before she had even put the tray down. Angelina smiled; Moses and Joe looked askance.

'It's organic, fresh out of the oven, Brodie,' she told me with pride as I took my first bite.

'You have got to teach me how you get it so crisp.'

'Don't you dare, Angelina,' interrupted Moses as we chatted without concern for what was really going on around us. 'She'll be like the side of a house before you know it. Unable to get into her leathers and then always late for court.'

Moses spoke for me. If Angelina was bothered by his remarks I couldn't say, for she turned and left the room as silently as she had come in. Kailash surveyed her as she departed.

'I'd keep that girl happy if I were you, Moses. She could be very useful curves like that are always in demand, and I'd be happy to give her employment if you don't watch your step.'

Through the closed door Angelina shouted: 'Make sure that creepy b.a.s.t.a.r.d stays with you, Moses.'

Bobby smiled formlessly, unaware of what was going on. He had been hastily dressed before he left his flat in what looked like his mother's trousers navy blue polyester with a seam sewn in and an elasticated waist. Moses followed my eyes and answered my unspoken question.

'I wasn't wasting my time squeezing him into those skinny jeans.'

Joe, who had been fixing the video, nodded that it was ready. Moses stood up and pressed a remote control. The heavy gold-edged black curtains swung shut and the room became dark. Every cough and snuffle was amplified. I s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in my seat as the pit of my stomach heaved and rolled as though I was on a trawler in a force ten gale. Moses interrupted the mood.

'Before we start, I want to get this clear in my head. Angus McCoy said that Alex Cattanach was blackmailing the people in this video. Donna Diamond thought that Alex Cattanach was in the video and being blackmailed because of it. Then we have Tanya Hayder who has a copy of the video, she starred in it and admits she was going to blackmail people but hadn't gotten around to it. What the f.u.c.k is going on?'

'That's what we want to find out, Moses,' I answered, 'So if you sit down and shut up Joe can switch it on.'

Joe pressed the b.u.t.ton and ran back to his seat.

'Is it on?' a woman's voice shouted from the screen. I recognised it. The knowledge of the name evaded me. It was on the tip of my tongue, irritating like a small piece of grit in my eye. I knew it was there but I could not put my finger on it. Which one of them was it?

The camera panned out around the room. A large desk occupied the centre of it. I could see the certificates on the wall but couldn't read the names. Law books filled the shelves, but there was nothing so far that I could identify. A photograph on the desk; all we could see was the back of it. The cameraman was teasing us.

Tanya came into view, even prettier than when I had first known her. Pain stopped my heart. What a waste. She was dressed like the schoolgirl she was. The uniform certainly wasn't that of her alma mater.

'Get in beside Tanya,' spoke a harsh voice, a voice that expected to be obeyed. Moira Campbell came creeping onto the screen, looking skinny and undernourished. Head bowed, her hair was cut in a plain schoolgirl bob. Every inch a minister's daughter. The uniform she wore probably belonged to her.

Problems had already toughened Tanya. Her defences seemed so much stronger than Moira's.

'Wipe your nose there's snot dripping from it.'

I wondered why the voice didn't tell Moira to wipe her tears? Were those part of the enjoyment? Tanya was stripping, as if for games. Moira stood still, head bent, shoulders stooped, holding her own hand. We could hear her crying. I knew without looking at him that Moses wouldn't be able to watch this, it was too real to him, too much like the life he had known.

'Get in there and help,' the voice behind the camera shouted.

Bridget Nicholson, naked except for a schoolteacher's gown, walked on set. My head reeled back as if I had been punched. Moses sat up and took interest. Bridget Nicholson proceeded to strip the crying girl, ignoring her tears. Tanya, now almost naked, eager to be the teacher's pet, desperate to please, asked: 'Do you want me to keep my socks on, or shall I take them off?'

'Keep your socks on,' the woman's voice replied. I still didn't know her. Was it Alex Cattanach? Donna Diamond said it was.

Had she been killed for that belief?

Chapter Forty-One.

'I know what you're up to, Brodie McLennan!' Joe shouted after me. 'You don't even know if she's in,' he continued.

'Well, then, I'll find her wherever she is.'

I was almost at the front door now. It was a very large impressive entrance. Stone urns stood to attention at either side, filled to overflowing with flowers in bloom.

'Are you here to protect your girlfriend?' I snarled as I rang the doorbell.

'What the h.e.l.l are you on about?' He was a good liar; he actually sounded surprised.

'It's not the first time you've been here I saw you. Moses and I saw you in her kitchen window. At least Bridget had the decency to wave.'

He grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing me to face him. I looked up at the windows to see if any neighbours were watching but the only sound was that d.a.m.ned birdsong. How had I ever found it enchanting? I rang the doorbell again, this time keeping my finger on it. I knew how irritating it was from my encounter with Duncan Bancho. I heard a rustling on the upper landing someone was in and it sounded as if they were going to answer the door. Bridget obviously hadn't seen it was me, or maybe the thought of Glasgow Joe was exciting enough to overcome the obvious drawback of my presence.